So today we had a pretty easy ride into Delhi... in theorybut of course nothing is easy in India if they find something that is thenthey'll change it.

A top guy I used to work with back in London messaged meonline that he was in Delhi and so we decided to meet up. Getting to Delhi wasone thing, getting across from one side to the other was quite another. Thereare no ring-roads (of course) and so the only way was to ride straight through

We set off from a slightly surreal hotel in the middle ofnowhere. It was like an oasis of civilisation in the midst of chaotic shamblesof dirt and insanity. They messed us about though, when we found the place Imade a point of explaining I had no money, only a debit card and showed them mycard and was told it was no problem. When we had dinner it turned out it wasindeed a big problem because my card didn’t work at all. So in the morning wetried again and on the second attempt it worked. Probably.... you can nevertell here.

So we had breakfast which was radically different to whatwas described but it was food nonetheless so we headed onto the road with fullstomachs ready for the 90 mile ride into Delhi

. The post code was set in the Satnav and we were ready for the horrors ofIndian traffic.

The roads were terrible, we have a 5 year old map showingthe main road into Delhi but it still isn’t finished, in fact it still isn’tclose to being finished. We were lucky to drag on for a few miles before theconstant diversions through little dustbowl towns with the maddest drivingwe’ve ever seen. Progress was ploddingly slow and hot and uncomfortable. Westopped for water and the usual crowds gathered. The guys from the shop came toask where we were from and how much the bikes were worth, just for a refreshingchange. I didn’t drink the coffee this morning through fear of the watercausing still more stomach problem but I had a can of coffee later on which hitthe spot nicely

. We had taken a wrong turn and got off a section of road into atown, I was following and I didn’t see any turnoffs either, that cost us abouthalf an hour of being stuck in stationary traffic while people stared,wide-eyed and nudged one another, gazing at the bikes like they were alien spacecraft.

After what felt like hours because it was hours we finallysaw the signs for Delhi. We had battled on for a measily few miles but it wasjust taking so long to move through the solid traffic.

Once we were into the city itself we transferred to thesecond level of hell itself. The city was stationary with people honking hornsconstantly without relenting and forcing their way into whatever gap you left.We had to turn the bikes off in the traffic jams, the heat was really building,mine is a lean-burn engine and gets extremely hot and it was already 30degrees in the shade

. We had to take off our lids and drink water but it wasn’t a problem,nothing was moving anywhere. At one point three small children came up begging,they were tiny and stared at us with old eyes with no innocence left thatalready knew that the world was not a friendly place. We couldn’t give them anymoney but we played with them, they felt the hot gas from the exhaust and likedit when we blipped the throttle. Marcin even let them twist the throttle andmake his engine roar, he never normally lets people touch but these were justtiny kids and I guess he's just a big softy. They were filthy and hopeless, two young boys and a girl, none couldhave been more than 8 but if we gave them money someone would take it off ofthem. These kids need someone to just take them off the streets and give them ahome but the streets here are littered with camps and slums where families andentire communities live rough

. It's an awful situation and one that nobody here seems to care about.

Due to an error on the GPS we ended up on a building site inthe middle of nowhere. Most of India is a building site and most of thebuilding sites have no signs of progress or anyone working on them. It’s likethe entire economy simply collapsed at some point and decay set in and startedeating everything alive. The building site showed as a main road on our mapsbut was nothing more than sand and mud like many of the roads here. Eventuallywe checked the address and got a lock on where we were meant to be... 15 milesaway. That was a hell of a long ride through the bottlenecked hell of Delhi.Finally through more luck than judgement we managed to find the place where myfriend was staying. We texted him and then settled down for something to eat ina chinese place that looked clean.

The food somehow magically doubled in price and people keptcoming in to introduce themselves and say how much they liked our bikes. Whilewe appreciate the enthusiasm, it’s annoying when you’re having lunch. One guyrode up to us on a tiny scooter, looked straight at us with a deadpanexpression and simply said, "Awesome!" Then he rode off.That was cool, he just hit my funny bone square on and I laughed for ages on that one.

So by the time we finished, my friend had turned up. He wasin a hurry to get somewhere but Marcin was busy arguing over the bill and thefact that food turned up he never ordered. In the end we had to go, we droppedour bikes back at the flat, jumped into a car and dashed off. My friend isIndian and therefore genetically incapable of operating a vehicle safely oranything like it. He was talking on the phone and got caught by a trafficpolice officer. He went very sulky like a naughty child as he respectsauthority absolutely. We caught up about things on the drive and it was verystrange to be talking about things so mundane during something like this tripwhere we’ve broken down so many barriers and done so much. It was great to seehim but it felt very surreal to be discussing my old life in the middle of mynew one. On the way back to his flat we got a box of beers and a few cold onesfor the ride. We went back to the flat and my friend was horrified to discoverwe had no clothes to change into for a night on the town. We tried to explainwe weren’t really into nightclubs, a bar would be ideal but he had a plan. Theplan led us to a club which was pretty awful. Beer was the price of solid goldand nobody seemed to want to talk to us. Fairly typical of India so far,there’s none of the warmth and sociability of other countries, in fact allother countries.

Then it all went a bit wrong. It seems I had dropped abottle which had slid down the roof and hit a car, braking the back window. Weleft and a million Indians were shouting at us. We had no idea what was goingon but a big one threatened me. I went after him and he ran off, it turned outhe was the car owner and that their barks are worse than their bite but I have a temper and when people shout at me I like to punch them in the face until they stop. My friendwas getting very worried and in the end the police arrived, it was easier andquieter to sort it out with them so we went to the station. They tried to pushus but were firmly warned not to touch us.

So at the police station we were finally told what this wasall about, hardly the crime of the century and I said if it was my fault I’dpay for the window. Then the police tried to get heavy, they started shoutingand pushing and got pushed back a lot harder. Then the chief of police came inscreaming. I told him he was a stupid, fat inbred and he left. More policetried to push us and got pushed around. They tried to cuff Marcin but heshrugged off three of them. They had no idea what the hell they were doing.They demanded my passport but I refused, reminding them it was a free countryand I was not obliged to carry it. I told them I would call the British Embassyif they didn’t stop behaving like fucking idiots and then they did kind of stopbehaving like fucking idiots.

My friend was panicking at this point but we couldn’t take itseriously. I knew there was nothing they could do and they knew it too. Theyhad no idea what they were meant to do and as we weren’t frightened of themthey were a bit lost. So I paid the excess off the guys insurance and that wasthat, we left.